I Wish
by kendra1D
Summary: Harry loves Louis, but Louis is with Eleanor. Louis doesn't know Harry loves him. He also doesn't know what Harry does behind closed doors. Larry Stylinson. One Direction fanfic. WARNING: Self-harm Please review?


'I Wish'

Harry ran to his room and slams the door behind him. He can't take it anymore! Whenever she's over, he ignores him. He hates her.

He pulls open the drawer of his dresser and searches the back. He feels the cool metal on his fingers, then quickly grabs it.

Already feeling the sting of tears in his eyes, he yanks the sleeve of his sweater up as far as it can go. Harry drags the blade across the side of his wrist, watching the beads of blood appear. THe pain is like wildfire, rushing up his arm. He silently cries, hoping no one comes to find him.

He traces the other cuts on his wrist,his arm,and his shoulder. Harry cries harder, knowing who caused him to do this.

But it feels good in a way,being in control of this pain. Harry's emotional pain, Louis' in control of.

He hears her annoying giggle, and makes another slash, this time on his hips. It hurts more here, but Harry doesn't care. The blood drips down his leg, staining his jeans. He sobs harder, and apparently louder.

"Harry? Harry? Are you okay?" A voice asks from behind Harry's closed door. Zayn.

He clears his throat."Um, yeah Zayn, I'm fine."

Harry sees his shadow underneath the door, standing there.

Soon, Zayn leaves.

Harry sighs, then walks into his bathroom to clean up. He rinses the blood off his wrists, and changes his jeans. He pulls his sleeve down, and looks at himself in the mirror.

It's obvious that he'd been crying. He tries to wipe his eye with a washcloth, but it makes it worse. He sighs again, then sits back on his bed, staring off into space.

He imagines life with Louis, them 'd read some fanfiction about them, 'Larry Stylinson". He thought they were cute. He loved reading them. It gave him hope. Hope Louis would like him more than a friend. Hope that those stories could actually come true. Hope his dreams would turn into a reality.

"Bye Louis! I love you!" He hears her voice.

"Bye Eleanor! I love you too!" Louis answers.

"No, I love you more." Her voice alone makes Harry upset.

"No, I love you a whole lot more." Louis responds. Harry reaches for his knife again, and grips it so hard his knuckle turn white.

"Louis, stop!" Eleanor says jokingly.

"Eleanor, I love you more than anything in the world."

Harry can't take it. He cuts himself over and over and over again. The slashes criss-cross his left arm, and he feels the searing pain and sees the blood run down his arm and onto the sheet. He starts sobbing again.

A few minutes later, Harry realizes how much blood is on his arm,and goes to clean up again. The water stings his fresh cuts, and he tries to ignore it. Once he's finished, he slowly pulls his sleeve back down. The cuts burn when the material rubs up against them.

He grabs the blood stained knife off his bed, and stuffs it back in his drawer. He remembers the blood on the sheet, and finds a new one.

As he is about to go outside of his room, the door opens. It's Louis.

"You okay? You seemed sad earlier..." his beautiful blue eyes shone with concern.

"Um yeah, I'm okay." Harry lies.

Louis walks past him and sits on Harry's bed,and pats the spot next to him.

Harry sits next to him, and Louis puts his arm around him and pulls the younger boy closer. This motion presses Harry's mutilated arm against Louis, making the fire come back alive.

He gasps and quickly pulls away from Louis.

"Harry?" he asks,

Harry involuntarily touches his arm, and feels wetness. Oh no. The cuts are bleeding again.

"Harry?" Louis asks again, more firmly this time.

Harry gets up, but before he can run to his bathroom, Louis grabs his wrist sharply.

He shrieks, and the older boy pulls away, and looks at his hand. It has blood on it.

"Harry!" Louis exclaims. He pulls Harry back down on the bed next to him.

"What? Why..."Louis seems at a loss for words.

Instead, he gently pulls up the sleeve of Harry's sweater. It still hurts him, and he winces everytime the cloth passes over a cut.

"Harry! Oh my God..." Louis says, staring horrifyed at Harry's cuts, some still bleeding.

"A-Anywhere else?" He asks.

Harry stands, and shows Louis his hips. The cuts there are just straight lines, unlike his arm. When Harry sits, Louis asks, "Why?"

Harry avoids Louis's eyes, and tries to hold back the tears.

"Tell me!" Louis suddenly shouts.

Harry's surprised at Louis' outburst, and whispers, "You."

"Me? What did I do?"

Harry takes a deep breath, and says, "Louis, you don't even know. I love you so much. Ever since the X-Factor. I thought you liked me too, but then you started dating Eleanor. You seemed to be flirting and we even kissed! But whenever you're with her, you ignore me. She doesn't treat you well enough! Can't you see that? Can't you see that I'm better for you than her? Louis, I love you, please..."

Lou looks shocked. Beyond shocked.

"You're gay?" he simply asks.

Harry nods.

"Oh my God, I thought we were just joking around! Oh Harry, I love you, but not like that! I'm so sorry Harry, I love Eleanor."

Harry stiffens. He feels like the world is falling apart around him. He's never felt rejection as bad as this.

"Harry, please don't hurt yourself over me. Please Hazza, don't do it. I still need you." Louis says, and kisses Harry's cheeks.

Harry doesn't move, he feels frozen. Louis still sits next to him, a worried look in his eyes.

For the longest time, Harry doesn't move. Louis soon leaves, leaving the younger boy alone. He doesn't know what to do anymore. Lou was his everything. Once or twice before, he contemplated killing himself. He wants to now, but he knows he can't do that to the rest of the band and the fans. He wasn't going to let them down.

_**Two Months Later**_

Harry is still numb to the world. He and Louis don't talk much anymore, and his silence kills him inside. He's only animated out in public, he doesn't want the fans to see him this way.

Everyday, after work, he'd retreat to his room, and wouldn't come out until the next morning. The other boys were worried, but Harry always blamed it on being tired all the time. He still cuts, but not as much. He can barely feel the pain that the blade brings him anymore.


End file.
